


Don't Drop the Soap

by louisovermyknee



Series: One Shots/Smut [1]
Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Anal Sex, Gay Sex, M/M, One Shot, Prison, Prison Sex, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Sexual Content, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3115310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisovermyknee/pseuds/louisovermyknee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, ugh ... you see ... people get raped in prison ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Drop the Soap

**Harry POV**

Prison is Hell; or at least that’s what it felt like. It’s a man-made cage that is meant for the scum of the population. The guilty flock of animals and I were celled out of solid lock and key. There was no escape for us. The only thing that connected us to the outside world was the prison yard. Everyone would get a breath of fresher air. That being said, the atmosphere around us does not necessarily become as fresh as freedom. But it was fresher, meaning we were outside. The warm sun would frown upon our souls whenever the clouds decided to not come around. It’s like the star was ashamed of us and we’d all become hot and sweaty because of our bright orange jumpsuits. I know, we are not runway models here, but that was our only style of choice.

It was always a strange time for me to be out in the prison yard. Friends were not exactly an option in prison. I would always stay on the sidelines, watching my other fellow prison mates play basketball or lift weights or something or other. Everything was usual for my first few months in the Hell hole. I had no respect because I was new. I was fresh off the prison bus. Little did I know that everything would change once another prisoner would arrive.

            He was mysterious young figure. His hair, darkly red, was fringed and looked slick while it was swooped to the side. His arms were raving with tattoos. At one part I saw a bird and some type of tic-tac-toe board and ropes. His orange jumpsuit showed the rather curvy figure of his back. The bagginess of his pants kept his precious bottom from revealing itself. He always leaned against the sidelines like I was, but he would always stay opposite of me. Although we were apart, we were both loners together and that’s what made my first sight of him worthwhile.

Showers were a weekly thing. Every once and a while there would be a prisoner walking down the hall with a security guard. I had no track of what day it was, but if the prisoner walked the other way a few minutes later with his hair all wet, I knew it was shower day. I would have to wait until it was my turn. A security guard would come by and pick me up. He’d lead me to the showers and let me do my business. I always thought it was funny to have someone guard you while you’re cleaning yourself, but I’m a jailbird, and I needed to be cleaned.

“Five minutes” the man ordered, and he released me. I would have said that he shoved me because, of course, that’s the way that prisoners are treated. The doors slammed closed and I heard the click of the lock. I shrugged. Locked in again, and I would be until the end of my sentence. I remembered my time limit. I have five minutes to get myself clean and I have to hurry. Picking a random showerhead, I stepped forward and turned the nob. Immediately, I jumped at the contact. The water was scalding hot. I flinched backward, trying my best to avoid the burning H2O, but, of course, I had a time limit.

My courage sprung me forward and into the blazing fountain of water. It poured down my body with a punishing sensation. In the back of my mind, I tried to forget about the current temperature.  _Hey, at least it’s not cold._  The thought wasn’t that convincing. Yes, I could be freezing my butt off, but this was not a ‘pick your poison’ type of situation. So, as a result, I did what every other man with a sense of hygiene would do at this point. I rubbed away at my skin. Washing away the dirt and sweat, I did my best to at least have my moment of peace. Pretending you’re somewhere else and nowhere behind bars is kind of a hard thing to do. Especially when you get that deep, dark and tickling feeling that someone is watching you. Here’s the scary part- someone was.

He was flushed with solemn beauty. His body was framed as a flawless juvenile deliquesce. I barely noticed his presence, which was standing only a few shower heads away. It was like the steam toned down and he glided across the shower tiles. I could see that he was stalking me just like in the prison yard. The only problem is, now, the two loners were not separated anymore. We were getting closer together, and it was terrifying. In this situation, he was a lion in the hot African sun and I was the innocent lamb over the valley. Although he was staring at me, my instinct caught up and I immediately looked away. My outside expression came off as supercilious. Inside, I was frightened. After all, who knows what could happen?

The beautiful prisoner took the shower head next to me. All at once, I felt that burning sensation of not only the water, but also that you’re-crush-is-next-to-you feeling. I tried not to squeal or stare at him with astonishment like a high school drama queen would. I could spot more of his tattoos one by one at the corner of my eye. My vision managed to catch a few words on his chest, but I let it go so I could finish washing up. With the soap in my hand, I began to lather it up in between my hands. I guess the loner next to me noticed that there was only one bar to share. In a voice that rang with a British touch, he asked “can I have the soap?” With one hand, I scrubbed my chest. In my other hand, I held the bar of soap. I managed the beginning of my answer. “Yea-“ I said, but I was interrupted by a bothering, slippery touch. The soap erupted from my grasp.

The projectile slipped out of my hand and into the hot, steamy air. I watched the cleansing substance plummet to the tiles below. It fell with a bang, and then it slid past my feet. Turns out, the momentum brought the object to rest completely opposite of my stance. The soap glided behind me as if it was on purpose. I remember only a few months ago, before I was sentenced, my mother chuckled at me. “You won’t survive in prison,” she mocked, “Just hope you don’t drop the soap!” that was just the troubling lesson. I’ve gone this far out and I’ve heard horror stories. Now the wet bar was looking up at me and laughing its bubbles out in the puddles below. The soap was calling out for me to pick it up with its quiet, yet sudsy, voice. I had to answer it, but I was afraid.

For whatever reason, I looked to the man with an awkward expression across my face. He gave off a rather blank look. It was as if he had no thought of it. For a moment there, I believed him. “sorry,” I mumbled and turned around. The hot waterfall splattered down my back. I let my torso bend forward.  _Here goes nothing._  My hand reached forward to grab the bar of soap. A second had passed by and I heard the echoing sound of a splash. My head lowered to look between my legs. At that moment, I began to read upside down. “The Rogue” was written above the man’s feet in ink that was marked permanently into his skin. This was yet another discovery I had come across. I was about to bring myself back up again, but I was stopped by two thick, bold hands grasping at my sides. I heard a laugh. “Silly … foolish boy” he said aloud; “You should never drop the soap”

The top of my thighs felt the touch of something naughty, and it was growing larger. In the back of my mind, I knew what it was. Something told me my ass was going to be sore that night. What was strange was the fact that I wanted it. After all, if you put two loners together, what does that equal to? In the end, the equation concluded to this. I didn’t reply a word, not even a whimper. The prisoner stepped closer to me. At the right angle, he conquered me. The water assisted upon the entering. He used it at his advantage, that’s for sure. My curly bangs drooped down onto my forehead, but I thought nothing of it at this point. The harsh impalement hit me like great balls of fire. That being said, the steam of the water rose up to my face and chest. My heart beat rushed and my breathing huffed. My captor, too, became excited. He took his time with his satisfaction.

My asshole connected to him with a big and bold instrument that glided back and forth within me. His hands kept hold of me and I tried to relax and enjoy the ride. We were entwined almost perfectly. Somewhere deep beneath me, there was a sign that said I had been completed. I found someone, but not just any someone to lighten up the darkness the penitentiary held. Me and him, we were alive. In fact, I was so caught up in the moment, I started to groan. My partner began to moan as well. Our conserving oohs mumbled through the shower walls. We were getting louder. There was a keen, throbbing sensation that was on the horizon. My yelp clarified that causing. The man standing behind me thrust into me once again and this time deeper than ever before. Within time, I lost the soap all together. I let go of it to support myself on the floor. A splash erupted from below me as I fell. My captor didn’t miss a beat. He kept hold of me and supported both himself and I. Dedication is important during a time like this.

My partner was certainly got the advantage now. Crawling on top of me, he continued the penetration. I kept my stance as a bottom doggy. This was too good; he was hitting the spot pretty well. It didn’t take long before I screamed all together, not only because of this wonderful act, but also the hot splash of water that streamed down our backsides. “Aah!” I yelped, “Ha! Ah-a!” My topper let it out as well. At that moment we were singing nightingales in a boiling rain shower. This was all fun and games until we heard a banging on the door. The orgasmic sensation suddenly stopped. The child within me became scared out of his mind. “What the Hell’s going on in there?” we heard an officer from the other side of the wall. We were busted – well, almost. “Shit,” I silently cursed, “Nothing! It’s fine!” I roared under the loud shower head. The police officer didn’t reply, but it felt like he was still listening in on the action.

It was better to be safe than sorry. My captor slowly released himself from me. The deed was done and we both had to clean up. I didn’t bother to retrieve the soap. Both of us just had to rinse off at this point. I think both of us had forgotten about the time limit, especially since as soon as we stepping into the rushing waterfall, the rain had stopped pouring.  _So much for washing up._  Both he and I heard the officers returning to drag us back to our cells. Before the men put us away, I could’ve sworn I saw a faint smile on the man’s face. I did the same as the guards led us away. Upon returning to my little room behind bars, I made a small attempt to sit down. You can only imagine how that one turned out. It was a painful feeling, of course, but at least I knew where it came from. As it was, the two loners were separated once again; perhaps to meet in the prison yards another day.

**THE END**


End file.
